


Connections

by bygoshbygolly



Category: Megalo Box (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Physical Disability, Post-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bygoshbygolly/pseuds/bygoshbygolly
Summary: Boxing, Yuri thinks, is the ultimate union of thought and action.Before the Championship, Yuri works on perfecting that union.After the Championship, perfection is a long way away.





	Connections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! I love Megalo Box, and hope you enjoy this.

Boxing, Yuri thinks, is the ultimate union of thought and action. Boxers train, practicing punches over and over until they can throw them in their sleep, and in a fight, they must watch their opponent and judge timing, blows, when to dodge and when to block. Timing is everything, and the split second between deciding on a left hook and delivering it may mean your defeat. By the time he thinks of a move, his body must already be in action. When it all comes together, it truly is a beautiful thing to see.

 

The rise of “Gearless Joe” catches Yuri's imagination much the way it catches the public's, though he is not so much interested in the romance of the underdog as he is in the progression of Joe's technique over time, from raw and rough around the edges to something more controlled. Maybe it's that coach of his, or practice. Maybe it's talent finally being allowed to shine. Joe barely resembles the junkyard dog in that underground ring those weeks ago.

Yuri watches footage of Joe's fights, again and again, trying to learn his moves, his tells. He doesn't yet imagine Joe making it to the championship, but he plans, just in case.

He wonders if Joe is doing the same thing- watching videos of Yuri and trying to know him as well as he knows himself. He wonders if Joe lets himself imagine making it to the championship, or if he only focuses on the fight ahead. Whatever he's doing, it seems to be working.

 

Despite what Yukiko thinks, the decision to remove his Gear isn't made lightly. He has been with the project since the beginning, and he believes in the potential of Gear to help people. His integrated Gear has improved his boxing, strengthening his reflexes and bridging all gaps between thought and action. Keeping the Gear in the match against Joe would result in a good fight.

But it wouldn't be _right_. He needs to meet Joe on equal footing. It's the only way he could be satisfied. Joe is the rival his mentor talked about, the one Yuri wants to fight from the bottom of his heart. This needs to be done correctly.

 

The pain of the last few days has been excruciating. His arms are still raw from the Gear's removal. But Joe's face across the ring, bloody and bruised and glowing, is the most beautiful thing Yuri has ever seen. His heart races. No matter the pain he's in, this is destiny: they'll fight until one or both of them can no longer move.

 

Joe hangs around, after. It's surprising. It's a relief. It sets Yuri's teeth on edge.

“Why are you here?” he asks one day. He's still recuperating in the hospital, and Joe's sitting in one of the visitor's chairs, eating one of Yuri's oranges.

Joe's face twisted- shame or embarrassment or irritation, Yuri isn't sure. There are a lot of things about Joe he doesn't know. 

“Why do you think?” Joe pops another segment of orange into his mouth. “I'm taking responsibility.”

“Ah.” Yuri smiles thinly. “Pity.”

“Why the hell would I pity you?” That was definitely a look of contempt. “It was almost me that got knocked out, and they sure as hell wouldn't be as nice to me as they're being to you. I'm here to make sure you don't do anything stupid.”

The idea of Joe appointing himself Yuri's guard dog and arbiter of what constitutes a "stupid decision" startles a laugh out of Yuri.

“Yeah, that was coach's reaction too,” says Joe. “Don't think we're finished, Yuri, just because of this. I'm not letting you get off that easy.”

 

Joe doesn't accept the championship title. It's not much of a surprise, but he still feels the need to explain himself.

“It wasn't about being champion,” he says. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his shoulders are hunched around his ears. He doesn't look at Yuri. “I don't want to be some lapdog anyway. I just needed to fight you for real. And to pay back my debt.”

Yuri nods. He doesn't mention that no one would ever think of Joe as a lapdog, or that Yukiko would never accept him as champion even if Joe wanted the title. It doesn't matter.

“You proved yourself,” he says instead. “Gearless Joe. The real deal.”

Joe shines.

 

The doctors aren't quite sure what it is- residual effects from having the Gear removed or a side effect of the knockout or a combination of the two- but they are certain that Yuri's central nervous system isn't functioning correctly. His legs are the worst, and often refuse to bear his weight for any long period of time. He can manage walking around the hospital room, and later in Mikio's cabin, if he doesn't push too hard and doesn't take the stairs. His hands sometimes have trouble gripping things, and, for now at least, throwing punches is an impossible task.

 

The hospital has a first-class physical therapy department, but Yuri doesn't want to spend more time there. He's had his fill of shining white halls and smooth-faced professionals. He needs space, and people who will understand.

 

Miyagi looks him over, lips pressed together sternly but his eyes kind.

“Well, it won't be easy,” he says, finally. “They're doing wonders with prosthetics and Gear, but you're going to have to put in a lot of work. Even then, no guarantees you'll be good enough for competition.”

“Understood, sir,” replies Yuri. “I'll do whatever is required.”

 

He knows Joe's sharp edges- his teeth and eyes and smile and knuckles and tongue. He is still learning what Joe is like when he isn't spoiling for a fight-- how he plays with the children and bickers with his coach and works endlessly on his motorcycle. He's a little surprised to find that Joe can be soft.

 

Yuri can no longer move the way he wants, and may never again, That doesn't diminish the bone-deep need to set himself against Joe. It's just taken a different form. They argue, not often about serious matters, but just for the joy of it. There is nothing as satisfying as pushing against Joe, and feeling Joe push back.

As Yuri works to regain his old strength and control, he remembers Joe's face in the ring, and he works harder.

 

Yuri growls in frustration as his knees give out under him. Joe is there in a heartbeat, shoving a bony shoulder under Yuri's arm and carefully walking him over to the chair.

“Hey, that was better than last week,” he says as Yuri drops down onto the seat. Joe leans against the table.

“Not good enough,” Yuri mutters. He looks at Joe's easy pose and feels a stab of resentment. “You don't get it.”

“Right,” Joe snorts. Bitter humor creeps into his voice. “'Cause I have no idea what it's like not to be able to do what you wanna do.”

Yuri bites his tongue against a complaint that it's not the same as throwing fights. It isn't. Joe's body has always done what he tells it to, but perhaps knowing what you can do and not being able to act on it isn't entirely different. Maybe it's another similarity between them.

 

Yuri practices, and his good days begin to outweigh his bad days. He's making his peace with his new life. He's thinking about the future, and about boxing. About Joe.

“What are you going to do?” he asks Joe one evening. They're sitting by the canal; Joe is dangling his feet in the water, tilting his head back almost onto Yuri's knee to talk.

“What do you mean?”

“Megalonia is over,” Yuri explains. “You've almost fixed your motorcycle, and Gym Nowhere is doing well. What are you going to do? You can't go back to throwing fights.”

Joe hums and kicks his feet, disturbing the calm canal water. 

“Never really thought about it,” he admits. “Probably see if Coach wants me to stick around; make sure Sachio doesn't get into too much trouble.” This time he leans back far enough to rest the back of his head on Yuri's knee. “What are you gonna do?”

“Continue with physio,” replies Yuri. “Beyond that, I'm not sure. I want to box again.”

Joe smiles.

“Hell yeah. Our last dance wasn't nearly long enough.” He sits back up and stretches. “That's what I'm going to do-- wait for you to face me again.”

“That could take years,” Yuri warns. “It might not happen at all.”

“Nah, it'll happen.” Joe flops back again, his head warm and heavy on Yuri's knee. “It's destiny, right?”

Yuri's fingers twitch and wind their way into the ends of Joe's hair. Thought and action.

“Destiny,” he agrees.


End file.
